The Millennium Paladin Chronicles




Mykal looked out of his sevnteenth story window in downtown Galaxy City, admiring the beauty that had sprung up in spite of the devastation that had hit Paragon and still existed in various parts. This was his hometown and he loved it.

He sighed as he looked across the skyline.

"This is my city now, Lord. You've given it into mine and many others' hands to protect. We need You, because we cannot do this on our own."

His home town. This was not the same city that he grew up in. So much had happened. So much had changed. Not only in the city but to him. His whole destiny had been redirected.

It all began with a dream.



Covenant, Scion of Avalon, stands atop the highest building in Steel Canyon, staring down at the benighted city below. The lights of the surrounding skyscrapers lend an artistic beauty to the scene, and he feels like nothing so much as Henry, the lonely child.

Upon a time, I thought there was nothing so important as power. My power, borne since childhood, was my defining attribute. Now I am weak... surrounded by those whose power dwarfs my own.

Covenant sits down on the side of the building, legs dangling over the side. Summoning a mist about himself, he begins drawing patterns in the air with it. Before long, a vaporous island begins to emerge from the cloud, dotted with little flares of energy here and there.

I am relegated to a role not warrior, not priest... who does this leave me? Lady Swirlla swears by my ability to protect, and yet I fail again and again at this task. My liege calls me chosen, and I trust in his wisdom, but how shall I serve my calling with such meager power?

Covenant hangs his head and disperses the misty island with a blast of energy.

Vanity! Who should I be that I am not? I am empowered with means of protection for those who fight alongside me. I fail because I cannot relinquish my desire to fight! My hubris causes the fall of my compatriates. I must accept that I am no longer the Warrior Prince, and become who I now am.

Covenant gathers the winds about him and soars off into the night in search of someone to protect.



Mykal was a straight 'A' student at Marshall High School and the top of his class. School for him wasn't a challenge. All the subjects came easy. So much in fact that he was completing college courses in seventh grade in addition to his regular school work. His high school graduation was unlike any that Galaxy City had ever seen. At the same time he acquired his diploma, he was also receiving his bachelor's degree from Paragon University in bioengineering.

This raised more than a few eyebrows not only in Paragon but at top colleges across the nation. Admissions from places like Stanford, Yale, Princeton, and MIT, were all clamoring to offer him a free education. In the end, he picked MIT.

Because of all the hoopla, high school was a little stressful. Not because of his workload. That he loved that. That was his escape. No. It was people. Kids, mostly, who had an issue with him and his gifts. He didn't understand it at first. But it was plainly apparent with the comments and treatment he was given by the so called ruling popularity crowd. Jealously was openly rampant and raging.

Surprisingly, this was not the driving force behind their dislike of him. Disdain in a few cases. No. The underlying issue didn't have anything to do with what he was, an obvious genius. It had to do with who he was, a fact that people was openly aware.

He was a Christian.


His train of thought was broken by the phone intercom signal.

"Yes?" he said, not taking his eyes off the view in front of him.

"Josef Keller is on the line."

He took one more look at the city, sighing in acceptance, before turning his attention to the phone.

"Put him through."



Swirlla pulls out a key from a tiny pouch sewn into the inside of her belt. She hurries toward a small storage closet at a large storage facility. Without even a look she opens the door with the key, reaches around and grabs a small leather bound book. She does this without even thinking, because if she thinks about it, she will be reminded of how her whole life is now stored in this tiny storage closet.

She closes the door and puts the key back in the pouch and clutching the book tightly, gathers her strenght and flies atop a nearby building.

Friday Morning,

I don't know if I can do this. I don't understand how I was chosen when I committed such a terrible crime. I can justify why I did it, but it does not make it right and it saddens me.

I feel I must redeem myself somehow, perhaps this is how and I suppose in time I shall feel redeemed. At least, that is my hope. Though I do wish it could be in some other way.

It is funny. During recent troubles with the Outcasts, I fought alongside my Brothers where I always feel a sense of safety and even..........belonging. I used my powers against the Outcasts, the same power I used that fateful night when I killed my captor, an Outcast Boss and a thought had occured to me.

When the trouble had subsided, Scion mentioned his thirst to be more of a warrior and I mentioned how I wished I wasn't. It seemed ironic that we wished we had opposite roles. And I wondered why I hadn't been given powers I was more comfortable with.

Perhaps I am just over analyzing. The Outcasts give me pause to reflect on my past and how I must deal with things now.

Swirlla slips her pen between the pages and closes the book and repeates her process at the storage facility. She pauses a moment wondering just where to go. She will look for her Brothers, she decides.



How long had it been?

She'd lost track of the time, to be honest. Here she was decked out in all of these technological wonders and it never even occured to her that she should know what day and time it was.

It didn't matter, anyway.

Her prey was on the street below her, she was perched in a tree. Her armor's stealth mode was activated, and her assault rifle was aimed for the target's head.

Who was he?

The Death's Head Gunner before her. She always sort've wondered about just who she was hunting. Did he have family? A mother who worried? Or perhaps a sister... ever so briefly her thoughts turned towards her brothers.

Were they thinking of her and her family as they were murdered by the Rikti?

It didn't matter. In the past. The hunt was now, and as Cover Girl slowly pulled the trigger she repeated her vow to eliminate all monsters like the ones who'd killed her brothers.



"Hello Mr. Keller."

"Mykal. Glad I could get a hold of you. You're a hard man to track down. I just wanted to reiterate that the people downtown are very grateful for the work the Millennium Paladins did in fighting the Circle Of Thorns."

"That's what we're here for."

He wasn't stupid. No one called him anymore unless they wanted something.

"So, what can I do for you Mr. Keller?

"Please, call me Josef. And you're right...we need your help again. Seems that there was break in at the Paragon City Museum. The thieves stole two stone idols to the Aztec gods Coatilcue and Tlaloc. These were on loan from Mexico so the pressure is on to get them back. The night guard said that the thieves were part of the Banished Pantheon cult."

The Banished Pantheon. These guys were demonic and into all sorts of witchcraft and sorcery. He tangled with them a couple times briefly.

"The Banished Pantheon hang out at..."

"Perez Park. Yeah, I know. I've run into them before."

"So...will you get the artifacts and arrest the Pantheon for the theft?"

Mykal paused. Keller knew he wasn't going to say no and he also knew why. The Circle was mixed up with the Pantheon.

"Consider it done."

"Thank you."

"It's what we do. Not to cut you short, but we've got to get on this and some other things. I'll let you know how it goes."

"O.K. Thanks again."

Mykal looked out over the city again.

"Well...time to get to work."



I awaken in a cold sweat, suffering from a nightmare that haunts me. The nightmare has come to me every night since my escape from the Ritiki and I can't remember the last time I have had a full nights rest. Realizing that I probably wont get very much sleep this night, I make my way to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face, noticing a half empty bottle of whisky on the table. Grabbing it, I empty the last of the amber liquid in just a few gulps.

Standing half naked on my balcony, staring out over city I ponder these last few months.

Why am I plagued by this nightmare? What does it mean?

With a howl of frustration I hurl the empty bottle out over city.

The nightmare is always the same, I am leading a group of Ritiki through the streets, putting some unknown city to the torch and slaughtering everything we come across. We eventually come to a house that I find vaguely familiar. Not knowing why this house would seem so familiar, I quickly dismiss the feeling with a shake of my head. We enter the house and kill every living thing inside. As I make my way back outside a notice a picture on the wall. The picture was of the family we just murdered and I was standing with them.

Did I murder my own family? Is it a nightmare or a repressed memory? What have I done when I was under the control of Ritiki?

I have so many questions and no answers. That is why I have come to Paragon City, to find some answers and maybe atone for the sins I might have committed.

I have only been in Paragon City for about a month and already I have made a name for myself. For once my cell is quite tonight. I look upon my small collection of trophies I have gathered in my otherwise empty apartment. They might seem like junk to someone else but to me they remind me of the good I have accomplished. These simple trophies give me the strength to face the demons from my past.

Next to my collection of trophies is a reminder of all the friends I lost during the battle against our Ritiki captors. A collection of burnt and melted dog tags. Being the sole survivor of the battle, I collected what dog tags I could find of the fallen. I still feel the guilt of being the only one who survived after the reactor blow. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten, and these little scraps of metal remind me how important my friends are to me now.

Feeling exhausted, but unable to sleep I start to get dressed.

Maybe a few hours patrolling the streets might clear my mind.

I find myself staring for a very longtime at an emblem on my jacket, a star, which belongs to a group of heroes know as the Millennium Paladins. It was little over a week ago that I was asked to join their ranks by their leader Servant 12. I had the pleasure of fighting with him on a number of occasions. He was so impressed with my fighting abilities and character that he offered me permanent place on one of the most elite super groups in Paragon. Even though he knows little of my past, he had the faith to trust his life and that of his team to me a number of times. All I can do is return his faith, with the belief that I will one day find my answers and some peace.

I just finish stripping on my helmet when the cell starts ringing.

They always have to wait until I get my helmet on…

The Paladins need me...
Some kind of trouble in Boomtown...
I am on my way



Mykal put his flavored water on his desk and sat in his leather ofice chair. It felt like air and it was a blessing to be in it right now.

Three days ago, Josef Keller had asked him to look into the Banishd Pantheon and recover some stolen material that was taken from the Paragon Museum. With the help of some of Paragon's heroes and his teammates Caladbolg and Starblaze, the mission was a success. The idols were recovered and the Pantheon was defeated.

But he new that those idols weren't just ornaments or cultural heirlooms. They had spirits attached to them. Demonic spirits. He could feel it.

He'd tried to explain the danger to the museum curator, warning him that having those idols in the museum was going to cause nothing but trouble. However, the curator politely, but rather pompously dismissed it.

He sighed deeply with his left hand on his face and his eyes closed. He had no idea this is what the Almighty had in store for him. When he had recieved confirmation through his vision, he knew that it would be a long struggle against evil and unrighteousness. But this was hard. Much harder than he thought it was going to be.

That wasn't a bad thing. God was changing and molding him through this trial of fire. Giving him wisdom in developing new equipment, putting his gift of knowledge to the test. In the last month, he had fitted, updated, refitted, and kit bashed his inventions more than he had in a whole year normally. And he was at the office to do it again.

Reaching in his pocket, he took out the small device that looked like a calculator but had fewer buttons. Pushing the power button, the display came to life, illuminated with a soft green light.

Mykal stood up and winced. His whole body ached.

Walking over to the right hand wall, he pulled out a small antenna and punched in a series of codes. With the final button, the wall came to life, revealing a one person elevator. Steeping inside, he pressed his palm against lighted panel next to the doors. With a soft whisk, they closed and the elevator began it's ascension.



ooc - posted this to the mp list, and then realized it should really go here instead. Sorry for the cross posting.

Streaking across the sky like a comet, Starblaze flies around Skyway City. Soaring over buildings, under bridges, and around cars in traffic, he is playing the superhero version of joyriding. Stars life has changed so much since he came into his powers. He can not believe how much stronger he has become.

Star flies faster and faster, trying to push the limits of his new ability, when he sees something strange happening out of the corner of his eye. A large figure is standing before a group of 5th column soldiers, and with one punch he has knocked them all 20 feet into the air. He immediately recognizes one of his follow team members, Caladbolg. Star laughs to himself, those foolish soldiers, they can shoot all they want, they are never going to be able to harm that guy.

A wave of joy sweeps through Star, since he has become part of the Millennium Paladins, he has not found a foe that the team could not defeat. The strength of this brothers and sisters is amazing. Star often stands in awe watching Caladbolg stand in the middle of a group of evil doers, laughing as their attacks bounce off his skin. Star would be ripped to shreds if he ever attempted anything like that.

The joy becomes mixed with sadness as Star thinks about how feeble he is compared to his team mates. Star is always the one left behind, like a kid brother. Star hears of epic battles and task forces, but he is always told he is too new to his powers to take on such things. He needs to keep gaining in strength so he can prove his worthiness to everyone.

Star swings by one of his contacts, eager to do battle with another foe. He is directed to a cave in Perez Park, more trouble with the circle, they have some mystic gem they are trying to get back to Oranbega. Will they ever learn?

Blasting through the caves like a comet, Starblaze's flames send the circle mages running. Astounded by the circles willingness to destroy themselves to sacrifice themselves in order to prevent Starblaze from getting to the gem, he redoubles his efforts, the gem must be really important for them to be willing to kill themselves for it.

In the end Starblaze is victorious, if a little worse for wear. He recovers the jewel and takes it back to his contact, or at least he tries to. On the way to his contact he is attacked by demons, minions of the circle. Starblaze does some fancy flying and is able to escape them. They were stronger then the mages he fought earlier in the caves. He slowly scouts around, trying to get to his contact, and he luckily finds many of the demons alone as they hunt for him. Alone they are no match for Star, and he is able to destroy them. Unfortunately he did not plan on what happened next. As Star made it to his contact he saw him lying on the ground, covered in blood. The circle had gotten to him. Such a price to pay for a gem.

Star flew away in a rage, how could they be so evil? What could this gem possibly do? As he soared over Skyway City he attached the gem to his belt, it glowed bright blue, a stark contrast to his red costume. As the light of the gem grew brighter, Star felt really dizzy. Then suddenly he found himself plummeting to the ground. He was no longer able to fly! Star dropped like a rock, hurdling towards the pavement. Drawing upon all his strength Star tried desperately to fly, to no avail. At the very last moment just feet from the ground, a protective bubble formed around him. This shield protected him from the impact, Star was saved. Unfortunately Stars luck was as it usually was, and he landed right in front of a 5th column soldier. Stunned from the fall, Stars shield fell, and he was vulnerable to the soldiers attacks. Desperately Star tried to blast him with his fire powers, but instead of the blast of flame, a wave of smoke surrounded the solder, causing him to choke. Again Star tried to blast the solder, but more smoke appeared. Looking down at the gem in his belt, Star wondered, and decided to remove it. His old powers rushed through him, he was again able to fly and quickly blasted the soldier away, sending him running from his flames.

Over the next few hours Starblaze experimented with the gem. He found that they changed his powers in strange ways. He decided to keep the gem for the Paladins, a person has bad their life for it and Star was going to make sure it never fell into the hands of the circle again.



As the smoke clears, a single but rather large figure stumbles his way out of the smoking hole, and coughs a few times as he blows out a few smoke rings “Eh, bloody crazy mages…” The irish accented hear known as Caladbolg booms, “…I dinnae if they’re stupid o’ just cowards blowin’ ‘emselves up like that..”

With a final grunt of distaste, Caladbolg heads off from the sight of his latest tangle with the Circle of Thorns. The man Cal calls ‘The Boss’, Servant 12, has an extreme dislike for their kind, and when Cal heard the young woman’s screams he didn’t care too much for them either. Of course, to Cal, there’s nothing better than a hard fought battle, and the beaming thanks of a nice young lass when the work is done.

With a chuckle to himself, though, the mountain of a man leaps off towards the farthest reaches of the City. Paragon City. A most interesting place, and quite different from the towns he is used to. Now, Cal isn’t any stranger to large cities, hailing from Dublin most recently, but something along the lines of this place is quite a different world. However, Cal still can’t decide if it is the City, or the ‘so called Destiny’ that Servant 12 tells him of.

Sometime after losing his best friend in the fire started by that blood-sucking freak, Cal ran into Servant 12, and the rest of his life has been a whirlwind of excitement. Servant 12 told him that he could see ‘some kind of glow’ on the young man, and that he could show him what his powers were meant for. Cal, being ever pragmatic, was wary at first, but decided that after the incident at Mickey’s that it would probably be best if he headed out of Ireland for awhile. That is how he finds himself in Paragon City.

Since coming to the City, Cal has met quite a few of his teammates, and they are all very different than what he’s used to. There is, of course, The Boss, who seems a bit wound tight, but is a decent fellow, and knows his fightin’ pretty good. Scion, with his weird talkin’, his crazy winds, and the heart of a true hero. Swirrla, the lady with enough power ta blast even Cal through a few buildings, and Cover Girl who carries more ammo on her than any ten IRA people that Cal has had the enjoyment of runnin’ over. There is Deathstryke, a large man of Cal’s own personality even if he is a bit subdued and cranky most o’ the time. Doran, feisty lil’ guy who likes fightin’ things almost as much as Cal does. Finally, there’s Starblaze, just a bit younger than Cal, and with twice as much vinegar.

All in all, Cal wouldn’t trade a single one of them, and that brings a large smile to his face. Of course, as he’s caught day dreamin’ he’s blind sided by a large sickle shaped blade. With a grunt, Cal turns to see one of about eight freakshow grinning at him like an idiot, and Cal says “Well boyo, we got two ways this is gonna happen. Either yer gonna turn yerselves in….” and with a twist of his neck, a popping sound issues forth as if a great tree was just cracked in half, “…o’ yer gonna get turned in once I’m done poundin’ on ye.” Their answer, of course, comes in the words of a shout as they charge the behemoth, “Heh, wrong choice.”



Soaring through the concrete valleys of Steel Canyon, Covenant feels free. Having just saved another young hero from his own ambition, he also feels at peace.

So much is still unknown to me, yet I feel as if I am as I should be-- for the first time since the diminishing of my power. Nay, not diminished-- merely changed. So focused have I been on regaining my warrior status, I had forgotten the heart of the power of Avalon. As it is with my Blessed Isle, so do I protect those things most important to me. As it is with the Sisters of Avalon, so do I heal those who are in need. And as it is with the Warriors of Avalon, so will I destroy any who shall attempt to violate my home... my friends.

Having spanned several of the city's protective zones with no more effort than a normal man uses to walk to his car, Covenant touches down at Galaxy City's City Hall. Scanning the crowd of young heroes, all brimming with excitement to be the next doer of justice, he cannot help but feel a little of that exuberance himself.

Ah... 'tis time to enjoy the gift bestowed upon me by my beloved teachers. I know not how they know my most private thoughts, but being presented with this fine suit of armor, I care not! With this armor, I can indulge my base desire to do physical battle with those who would do bodily harm to others. 'Tis truly no different from my methods of weakening my foes, then pummeling them with my energy, but I am somehow more gratified seeing the look in their eyes change from the misbegotten belief that they will prevail to the fear of knowing they are bested.

Withdrawing the armor from a safe deposit box, along with the ID card and communicator the city requires he have for each set of registered powers, Covenant runs his fingers along the engravings on his breastplate. This golden armor, he knows, will allow him to draw his energy back into himself, containing it more compactly. With this armor, the mist that has become of his aura will become his radiant, defensive aura once more; the energy which once he could form into a blade will become his blade once more.

It frightens me at times, this armor. I know that the battle lust I feel is mine and mine alone, but this armor seems to intensify it. I know that once I don this glorious plate, I shall desire nothing so much as close combat with a worthy foe, to the exclusion of all else. It is difficult, feeling my power now growing and accepting-- even relishing-- my role as protector, to be unable to cease my combative efforts when those around me are in danger. It is nearly a compulsion-- and yet I will don the armor, and I will feel that battle fury, and I will watch young heroes fall because I cannot protect them... and I will punish those who make them fall.



Looking down at the flaming brand in his also flaming hand, Covenant knows his trial is over. He has survived the confrontation with the greatest enemy he has ever faced: himself.

How this has come to be is uncertain, but it stinks of the treachery of my Aunt. I knew it would occur someday, but still it stings. As a child, she was more to me than a teacher-- she was as another mother to me. Aunt Morgan-- forever the adversary; it is her role in the grand scheme, and though I do not begrudge her this role, she shall not claim victory over me.

Covenant allows his blade to dissipate as he sinks toward the steps of Galaxy City's City Hall. Allowing his blazing aura to flare bright for a brief moment, he feels clean... strong.

Looking back over the events of the day, Covenant knows that he has much to atone for. It all started with a routine mission: save those who have been kidnapped by the vahzilok. Simple enough; just run in, disassemble
the robotic zombie servants and arrest the sick men who would create them. Covenant expected it to take no more than an hour, given ample time to replenish his power between battles. Upon entering the sewers, he knew
this was not to be.

As he turned around from replacing the sewer grate, he was immediately confronted by an eidolon-- a smiling eidolon. "Greetings, Scion of Avalon. We have things to discuss, you and I." She beckoned him forward with a crooked finger and began sauntering away.

Covenant threw himself forward, sword held high, prepared to end this cocky villain with no further discussion. Again, he knew this was not to be when he found himself immobilized and weaponless mere inches from the fiend's back.

"Silly boy... you cannot hope to harm me. Perhaps at your full power you could best me, but in this shell of gold you wear you are next to nothing to me. Such beautiful armor," she said as she ran her dessicated fingers across the celtic knotwork etched into the breastplate. "It will serve us better once we get it dirty." She turned and began walking away
again, but this time Covenant was compelled to follow.

"I know not what villainous plan you refer to, but nothing of the Blessed Isle shall serve the likes of you. The power of Avalon is sanctified by the One God, for the Sisters of Avalon knew his was the true power and willingly receded from the world of man. To invoke the wrath of the power of Avalon is to call down the very legions of heaven," Covenant yelled, his face growing red with rage.

"Does everyone in Avalon talk so much? Is that the power you speak of? If so, I'm all aquiver with fear," the eidolon laughed. "Now be silent, or your tongue will be the first of your parts we remove."

As if her words carried the approval of his body, Covenant found himself unable to speak for the rest of the journey. They spent the better part of an hour trekking through multitudinous tunnels-- so many, Covenant knew he had no hope of trying to escape. He would have to rely on his friends, the Millenium Paladins, to save him from this place.

After a time, they came to a cavernous open area wherein Covenant could hear the cries of the innocent. As soon as they entered he saw them, huddled together on a platform in the middle of the putrid water. Vahzilok zombies loomed menacingly over the gathering of young men and women, vomit dripping from their slack jaws. For perhaps the hundredth time, Covenant attempted to summon his blade to no avail. He could be nothing more than a mute witness to this horror.

"Feel free to wander about for a bit, Henry boy. The show doesn't start for a while yet, and I wouldn't want you to get bored," the female eidolon rasped through her wicked smile.

Covenant felt his power return and immediately, though he was horribly outmatched and outnumbered, hardened his aura and summoned his blade. He was prepared to destroy each and every vahzilok in this sewer complex, even if it meant his own death. His communicator was not functioning
here, and he very much doubted the hospital teleporter would work either.

"Oh no... The Valiant Scion of Avalon will destroy us all!" The
eidolon's sarcastic gibe only served to feed Covenant's growing battle fury. "He will ruin my plans again! Oh woe is me!" Her evil, mad cackling was more than Covenant could bear; knowing that if he approached her he would be rendered helpless again, he turned his attention to her zombielike servants.

"I may not have the power to send you to Hell, but before I fall I shall see to it that your minions are released from their earthly damnation," Covenant screamed as he leaped across the open space. Instantly, he became a whirling dervish of glowing destruction, putrescent flesh flying in every direction. All the while, he could hear the insane laughter of his captor, urging him to the most violent fury he had ever known.

After dealing the final blow to the final zombie, Covenant realized something he could not in his fury: these minions did not fight back. They merely stood there drooling as he decimated the group. Suddenly he was immobile again.

"Excellent chopping, boy. I told the doctor you would make a fine addition to the family." She stopped smiling then, and stared Covenant directly into his immobile eyes. "You realize of course, you've become one of us by association, yes?" At that, she leaned down and (in a gruesome display of horror) peeled the face off of one of the fallen zombies to reveal the visage of a young man, perhaps 20 years old.

Horror. Despair. Unforgiveable. Murderer. Like them. No better. Evil. These are the myriad thoughts which rushed through the mind of Henry Pendragon, Scion of Avalon, Covenant between the old ways and the new, the Butcher of Innocents. A new emotion arose in Covenant at that moment, an emotion he had never known and hoped he never would: hatred. He had known righteous anger and the fury of battle, but never this.

This new emotion filled him with a cold emptiness. His only thought was of the slow destruction of this evil thing which had made him do an evil thing. He turned, suddenly free from his invisible bonds and said in a cold yet level voice to the fiend behind him, "Aye, one of you. As such, I will now give you a lesson in true cruelty."

Stunned into silence at first, not understanding how he could break free of her power, she responded with that wicked laugh once more. "He breaks the bonds of darkness and suddenly thinks himself a match for me? Gather round, dark spirits... I'll let you have his body when I'm done crushing
his soul!"

"The spirits will not heed your call, pathetic weakling." Covenant turned to face her once more, his eyes glowing with an ebon light. "You have shown me hate. Now I shall show you torment." The shadows gathered about his feet and crept up his armor, cloaking him in the cold darkess of the Netherworld. He stretched out his hand and commanded the darkness to fly forth.

As the gloom enveloped her, her look changed from calm surety to abject terror. This could not happen! She was the Mistress of Shadows; they could not harm her! Nonetheless, the dark spirits began eating at her life force, weakening her... killing her again.

She tried to run, terrified that he could turn her power against her in such a way, but was caught by his gaze. He approached her slowly, casually. "If you think this is the most that shall befall you, you are ever so wrong. You know quite well that if I should choose to do so, I can command the darkness to prolong your suffering for as long as I wish
it." He stopped inches from her face and smiled a wicked smile. "I've a better torment planned for you, though."

As he backed away, an evil smile not quite touching his eyes, she could see that his armor had now turned utterly black-- it seemed to be literally consuming light. "Howling spirits of Twilight's shadow! Consume the soul of this wretch and deposit her life force in the bodies of the slain!"

The shadows began to writhe and moan, responding to the commands of this new Dark Covenant. At once, dozens of wailing wisps of darkness lanced through this immobilized eidolon and continued on, coming to rest on the bodies of the slain-- bodies which began mending themselves. "Your last
act in this world, though it be not by your own choice, will be a good one. Your death shall mean the return of the lives of those I have butchered here today. There is no punishment greater than that for those of your ilk."

The newly resurrected and wholly terrified young people were as frozen in place as was the villainess. Covenant turned to them and said, "Go, and take those others with you." He nodded to the group of innocents who had been "menaced" previously. Their screaming had still not stopped, though they were aparently too terrified to run even after the "zombies"
had been slain. "Go now, before I have the urge to kill you again," he sneered, knowing the horrible truth in that warning.

As the innocents ran screaming for the nearest tunnel, Covenant turned his attention back to his tormented tormentor, now barely standing. "You know they'll never make it out of here. There are too many of us down here for them to escape!" she screamed desperately.

He smiled again that wicked smile and said, "I gave them a chance, which is more than they had before you brought me here. I have not finished with you, however, so they shall have to find some clever mode of escape. Perhaps another hero will come along... no matter."

"I've won, you know... even though I will die for it, I have won," the eidolon rasped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "You will never know happiness again... only cold, empty hatred for all things. It is for the best, boy. The world is full of worthless fools who serve no purpose but to raise up the ruthless to the positions they deserve."

"Shut up, you wretched hag! I shall torture you for days on end... but perhaps I need to remove that tongue first, eh?" Covenant laughed wickedly, savoring the power he had over his once powerful captive. "Or better yet... Dark Servant, come forth!"

The eidolon's shadow slithered and coalesced, becoming a pale mockery of her already pale form. "Command me, master," it said in a hollow, whispery voice.

"Consume all that she is, slave, that you may carry within you her essence. Preserve her mind, that she may know the torment of being one such as you... My shadow puppet." Seeing the terror growing in her eyes, yet preventing her from speaking, Covenant watched in morbid fascination
as the shade drew out her very soul and consumed it, giving a touch more solidity to its own form.

"You shall be my slave for eternity, Shadow of a Mistress." Covenant laughed heartily, proud of his cruel witticism. "Now dance for me, puppet... I desire entertainment," he barked cruelly, laughing all the while.

"Yes master, I obey," she whispered. And as she danced, she sang a wicked song.

My master was once a valiant knight;
He wielded the powers of goodness and right.

He came to my den expecting a battle,
Instead slaughtered children as though
they were cattle.

I showed him the powers of darkness and
And now I dance for him to his great delight.

I am his slave, as he is to his sins,
Soon all will know this, and the hunt will
Hounded by those who he once called his
Soon he'll do battle with those... Paladins.

"SILENCE!!!" The shadowy spirit fell silent with a satisfied smirk on her translucent face. "The Paladins would never do battle with me. I didn't once call them friends-- I still do. You will sing no more, shade. I tire of your presence; be gone!"

As she vanished, she got in one last parting shot. "You are all that they oppose, dark master. You draw on your hatred, and you will do evil again. It is inevitable........"

It cannot be true... the things I have done here were out of my control. I have accomplished good here, regardless of my methods. Just because I accept this new power... accept?

Covenant realized suddenly that this power was not his. Looking down at his mailed fist and seeing for the first time that it was not the brilliant gold it should be, he knew that the armor was somehow doing this.

So, my beloved teachers... I am given a choice. Hatred and great power, or joy and sorrow and weakness. Upon a
time, 'twould have been a simple choice, but that was when my power was whole and I was mighty. I do not understand, Blessed Ones... why give me this choice? This is not the way of Avalon, nor of the One God.

In that moment, Covenant knew the only choice he could make. Darkness was not his way, and hatred made him weaker than if he had no power at all. He fell to his knees on the slimy sewer platform and raised his arms skyward.

"Purify me, Most Blessed Teachers! Make my spirit bright again! Remove from me the tarnish of my wickedness and bring me back to the glory of goodness! I cannot be like this and remain the Scion of Avalon! Return to me the power I am heir to!"

As Covenant poured forth his prayer, a light began to emanate from his fingertips. Pinpoint rays shot forth from his breastplate, dotting the room with a hundred golden stars. "Yes! Thank you, Blessed Ones! Return to me the Light of Avalon!"

In an explosion of light and heat, the darkness was dispelled. The blackness fell fully away from Covenant's armor and was replaced with a blazing golden aura. Willing his blade to come forth, he was stunned to find that it was more like his old blade than ever the armor had allowed him to summon.

On an impulse, he willed his aura to expand and thrilled to find that his radiance was great enough to banish every shadow in the room. He thought he heard the fading voice of the eidolon whose spirit he had trapped say, "Soooo.... Beauuutiful... Freeeeee......"

Hoping he was not too late, he set out to find the hostages he had released earlier. He found them thankfully unharmed but about to be captured by a mad surgeon and his pack of zombie minions.

"Halt, fiends! Covenant, Scion of Avalon will not allow you to harm those innocents! Feel the power of the Light of Avalon, miscreants!" He leaped at the lead man, his blade a blur of blazing light, and sliced his crossbow and bonesaw into pieces. The villain turned to run, then suddenly clutched his chest and fell. Turning his attention to the zombies, he could see that they too had fallen to nothing more than the blazing force of his aura.

The lost kidnap victims recoiled in terror from him, remembering his earlier threat, no doubt. He dimmed his aura and dismissed his blade, then knelt on the ground and bowed his head before them.

"My actions earlier were vile and inexcusable, and though I will not dare to ask you to forgive me, I swear to you that I will see to it that each of you makes it home before this day is through. If I must destroy every zombie, eidolon, and sewer rat to insure your safety, so shall it be done. Command me to rise and I shall lead you to safety by the blessed Light of Avalon, or command me to stay and I shall follow you at
a distance. I await your decision."

"Rise, Henry Pendragon, Scion of Avalon, Covenant between to old ways and the new... My son." Looking up, Covenant saw not a group of kidnap victims, but the glowing spectre of his mother. "You have survived this trial, though there may yet be more. The power of Avalon, though you were born to it, will not be given lightly. You have learned the ways of wind and water, now master the way of fire-- the way of vitality. The armor is but a conduit for the power of Avalon; you are the receptacle. Use this power as you always have, Henry; use it in the name of good. You will not see me again, but know that your father and I are watching, and we are proud."

As his mother-- Lady Guinevere, Queen of all the Britons, faded from view-- Covenant wiped the tears from his face. He rose, feeling sanctified once more, and headed out of the sewers merrily vanquishing any foe who crossed his path.

I must tell the Paladins all that has befallen me this day... I crave the warmth of friends and I believe they deserve to know.

Covenant stands, summons his blazing aura once more, and begins the run to Mykal's apartment.



Mykal scratched the top of his head. He'd been in his lab for hours, finalizing the new modifications. Technically, it was still under development but he still wanted to take it for a test drive. It would be a while before he could integrate it with the rest of his equipment.

He hit the streets that night, battling the Hellions. His nuclear blasts were working wonderfully as were his neutrino contact lenses. His personal force field needed some shoring up and he also needed to realign his force bolts for maximum effect. It was going to be some time but eventually, he'd have it all working as one unit.

He got back from his trial run with a million things racing through his head. Some potential international clients were coming in tomorrow and he had to be ready for that. There were a lot more things he wanted to do with the prototype unit, and he had to explain to a very special lady why he had to cancel their date.

But tonight, he wasn't finished. There was more work to be done.

Slapping on his teleportation harness, forearm guantlets, and shoulder attachments, he looked longingly out of his office window.

Lord. You said there would be twelve of us. I don't know if I'm growing impatient or what....but where are the other four?

He stood in silence, waiting for a prompting in his spirit. None came.

I trust you'll bring them.

Pushing a button on his gauntlet, he vanished from the office into the night sky.



Flying through the murky mist which serves as his portal between Earth and Avalon, Covenant has plenty of time to recount his recent troubles. His heart swells with questions he must ask of the Sisters, and their urgency speeds him on.

So many strange things... my loss of control in the sewers, my subsequent emergence as the blazing avenger of the innocent... the appearance of my mother's spirit. I cannot help but feel I am being led upon some path I do not understand. On this past trip to the world of men, I have once again recovered the magical cloak called Bonefire from the clutches of the Skulls-- those odd death-worshiping villains. This time, however, it has not ended with the return of the cloak to the proper authorities; they have begun attacking me when I least expect it, even though they must invade the chosen homes of other gangs. This too seems like a corraling of sorts... but where am I ultimately being led to?

Covenant pushes himself forward, manipulating the mist more skillfully than once he could have.

Truly, my command of Avalon's power is growing. Upon a time, the Sisters' direct intervention was needed to transport me from one realm to another. Now, it seems, I am able to come and go as I please; my own mist has become as one with the mist which protects my home.

"Not so fast, young one. You'll not be steppping foot upon the Isle this day," comes a familiar voice through the warm fog. "I've things to tend to, and I can't have them interrupted just yet." Morgain appears as though being molded from the mist-- her diaphanous white gown most surely is.

"Aunt Morgain. I thought your work was afoot, though it is unhappily that I learn I was correct. What is your plan? Will you simply keep me here, that I may not add my power to the struggles of the world of men?" Covenant crosses his arms, hovering as effortlessly as his aunt. "What makes you think you can stop me from entering my home, anyway? The power of the Blessed Isle is as my arm or leg... as easily as I walk may I enter through the mist."

Morgain laughs breathily. "Silly boy... you are the heir, but I am the Queen." She smiles a taunting smile, a mischievous glint in her almondine eyes. "If you think you can enter without my say, you've something new to learn this day," she giggles musically.

Covenant smiles. He had always liked Aunt Morgain, even though she teased him constantly as a boy. Her power was truly the greater between them, but never had he let that stop him-- he enjoyed this game. Summoning a swirling vortex of wind about him, he launches himself at her. If it this was but a projection given form by the mist, his hurricane would perhaps break her concentration and allow him to pass. As he approaches, the vaporous vision begins to pull toward the hurricane, becoming nothing but more air to feed its frenzied spin. Morgain's whispering laughter can be heard in the whistle of the flowing wind.

"Hah! Your power wanes as my own waxes, milady Aunt. As the victor, I shall now take my spoils in the form of a homecoming!" Covenant releases the swirling wind from his control, only to find that they swirl on without his urging. "What foolishness is this? Though the wind may not disperse, I can easily remove myself from its presence," he chuckles as he begins flying up and out of the center of the spin... or tries to, as he finds himself stationary.

The face of his Aunt appears on the surface of the churning winds about his waist, smiling that same taunting smile. "I told you, dear boy: I am the Queen. The Mist of Avalon obeys only me unless I wish it otherwise, and you feed your powers with my Mist. I'm sure you can reason it out from there, love," she laughed, reforming as a translucent maid before him. "Your very own construct shall keep you here until I wish it otherwise, and then you shall go free. Don't look so glum... the world survived without you for over a millenium; I'm certain it will keep until I am done setting my plans more fully in motion." With that, she turned away, disintegrating into the mist once more.

Covenant crossed his arms once more and hung his head.

Again, I am a prisoner, but now it is within my own realm. She speaks the truth, of course... the mist gave substance to my hurricane, and it appears her mastery of the mist is total. Perhaps in time, my mere proximity to the Isle will be enough to alert the Sisters to my predicament. They may not be Aunt Morgain's individual equals, but as a combined force, they are nothing short of power personified. I must wait, and endure the knowledge that her wicked plans are in progress, though I may do nothing to hinder them for now.

Slowly, Covenant begins sending out tendrils of the Light of Avalon, hoping he has enough residual power to make his presence known.



Mykal appeared suddenly in his twelfth story office just as abruptly as he he had left. It had been a long night.

He plopped down on the small, black leather couch, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose. The beginnings of a headache was trying to form. It usually helped when he did that.

The past couple of days had been quite eventful. He had several run ins with the Freakshow, busting up their operations all over the city. He shook his head at the thought of them. Their name fit them well. To use technology was one thing. To BE the technology, replacing limbs and body parts, just for the sake of gaining power....that was mental. Mykal recognized that being human, made in the image of God Himself, was the highest honor of any creation in the universe. Hands down. To pervert twist that into....they had serious issues. That was putting it lightly.

But what disturbed him more than anything was the fact that the Paladins' arch nemesis, the Circle of Thorns, were building up their power base. Even more disturbing, the supposed lost city of Oranbega, which a majority believed to be some psychological ploy by them to instill hope in their members and fear in their enemies was not lost.

He'd been there.

The city was filled with mystic portals, valleys, waterfalls, and a library he didn't have the time to actually peruse which was probably for the best. Everything the Circle touched was evil. The very thought of them filled him with anger and hatred. Yes. He hated them and everything they stood for.

Reaching over to the small table next to the couch, he grabbed his Bible. Opening it, his eyes instantly fell on Romans chapter 12, verse 9:

Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil. Cling to that which is good.

He looked off. He couldn't let his hatred of the Circle, what they did, overwhelm. If he did, they'd win. He needed to take that excess passion and concentrate on something else.

That's when he thought of her.


He looked down at his left forearm gauntlet. His security clearance papers had been approved. He hated to do this to her. Even in his thoughts. But, again, she was going to have to wait.



From the Millenium Paladins' yahoo group:

Scion had been missing for some time now, and it wasn’t like the
young man to just go missing without telling anyone. Cal stood high atop a
skyscraper in Independence Port, and thought about his missing friend.
Despite the guy was a little off his rocker at times, with a ‘My lady this,
and Sir blah that’, he was polite to the point of being sick. He decided
that it was time for him to go looking for Scion when a brush of something
touched his mind, and caused him to frown. Cal wasn’t quite sure what it was
but it was angry as well as familiar. Without further thought, Cal propels
himself from the roof top, and flies through the sky with the powerful push
of his inhumanly strong legs.

*Heh, I love this…* He thinks to himself.

The dark feeling gets stronger the closer he gets to Perez Park,
and Cal can only think that the Circle of Thorns are up to something again.
Stepping through the heavily guarded entrance, Cal is greeted with the
oddest sight he’s seen since he’s been here, Scion in an all black outfit,
and looking very moody.

“Hey Bro, ye lookin’ different…” and right as he says it, Cal
knows that this isn’t Scion, but some darker facsimile. “Eh, hold up, boyo.
Ye ain’t Scion, but I’m thinkin’ ye know where he’s at?”

The dark figure gives a humorless grin, and nods his head “That
I do. My ‘father’ is in a safe place right now, but I can talk him to you
for a price.” A small pause, and the dark Scion continues “I’ve been having
some problems in assisting my mother, Morgaine, and if you help me I will
help you.”

“Is that right?” Cal rumbles, “Since I ain’t got nuthin’ better
ta do, and I’m lookin’ fer Scion any ways… let’s party.” As he flexes his
muscles, though, Cal adds “If yer thinkin’ o’ settin’ a trap, or Scion ain’t
all there when I get there… you and I are gonna have words. Ye got that,

Without comment, dark Scion leads Cal through the forests of
Perez Park, and a darkened cave entrance from which he can hear the shouts
of combat. Quirking a brow, Cal asks “So, what’s this ‘bout? I’m t’inkin’
it’s a stroll in the park, but I’d like ta know.”

Dark Scion responds, “Be wary of my own power, Big Man, I am not
as weak as you might think. Be that as it may, there are two individuals in
here who have been the first to defeat me. Caution may be prudent.”

“Oh, is that right, lady?” Cal smirks, and cracks his neck with
a sound like a tree trunk breaking, “Ye lead me ta ‘em, and I’ll fix yer
problem…” Then with a snort as he travels down the cave entrance, he adds
“Ye still aint tellin’ me what’s this ‘bout.”

“Let us just say that my mother wishes the Hellions to not win
this one, and I enjoy causing people a bit of pain.” Dark Scion responded as
his own dark magic began to surround him, “There is nothing quite so sweet
as the taste of fresh souls.”

The battle to come was as quick as it was brutal, and Cal
personally beat both the leaders of the Skulls who were invading the
Hellions turf, and the Hellion leader. As he drug the unconscious bodies of
the defeated foes outside, Cal said “My part o’ the deal is up, now it’s yer
turn…” With a nod, dark Scion replied “You are correct, Big Man, and quite
the show you have put on. I’m sure the Hellions will think twice before
stealing any more artifacts from my mother. So, as promised, here is the
path to where your friend is held.” With that said, a portal of shadow
formed, and within it a mist could be seen leaking out.

“Eh, ye never said why ye were helpin’ me? I thinkin’ yer mother
aint gonna be so happy when she finds out ye helped me free Scion.” Cal
grunts out as he strolled toward the portal. Dark Scion words echoed forth
as Cal crosses into the land of mist, “Well, sometimes it’s fun to let
mother have her way all the time.”

Then, without any further thought, Cal plunges himself into the
mist, and doesn’t think twice about it being a trap. He’s gotten himself out
of other situations, probably worse, before and he’s still here to tell the
tale. Just when Cal thinks he’s made a bad choice, he can see Scion circled
by his own hurricane, and Cal shouts “Hey Bro, looks like yer a bit under
the weather…” Trudging through the high winds, Cal unceremoniously lifts
Scion up, and plops him on his shoulder “Let’s go, Bro. Ye got some explain’
ta do….”



Mykal looked out of his office window over Galaxy City. So much had changed in the preceding months. The myriad list of accomplishments he had achieved was way beyond what he could have imagined.

He understood more now than before of what it truly meant to be a hero. It wasn't his technological inventions. Wasn't the abilities they gave him. Wasn't the villains he fought. Being a hero was predicated on one word...


There were many days of pain, frustration, impatience, and agony and it all didn't come by way of physical ailments. His emotions were tried many times. There were days he would come home spent just from dealing with so-called "heroes" who acted more like adolescents and in many cases literally were.

In the beginning, it seemed like there would be no end of people who were available for the cause. It was a big encouragment and he truly believed that Paragon was on it's way to a quick revival. Then reality settled in. The road got harder to tow and many left the city unable to handle the burden and responsibility. Others found adventure in other dimensions and never returned. As much as it saddened his heart to admit it, Mykal knew they were not cut from the cloth. Pride? No. Just the truth.

Many teams were affected by the mass exodus, including the Millennnium Paladins. Mekeesha, Deathstryke, Swirlla, Cover Girl....gone. When the dust settled, he stood with Caladbolg and Starblaze.

Though it discouraged him, he pushed on. Despite the difficulties, he continued. The temptation to give up was great but he had a duty. He was chosen and now he knew that The Twelve were going to be even harder to find than he originally thought. Cal was one of them. Of that there was no doubt. It was his doubts of Starblaze that lingered. However, as grace was given to him, he'd extend the same. He'd been wrong about The Twelve before so he would be patient and wait.

Pushing a button on his watch, a wall slid back revealing a hidden elevator.

Time to work.

Servant 12 (50 Defender)- Millennium Paladins
Servant-12 (50 Blaster) - Millennium Paladins
Servant.12 (50 Tank) - Millennium Paladins



Descending the elevator, a prayer ran through Mykal's mind.

Lord...where did I fail?

Servant 12 (50 Defender)- Millennium Paladins
Servant-12 (50 Blaster) - Millennium Paladins
Servant.12 (50 Tank) - Millennium Paladins



Henry fidgets with his communicator, trying to remember the correct sequence of buttons to push to contact the Paladins.

It's been so long since I last checked in. It would serve me right if I was on my own now, but I hope it's not too late. This strange malaise has kept me out of the fight for far too long.

Finally remembering the proper codes, Henry keys his communicator. "Mykal... it's Henry. I'm back."



The elevator doors slid open with a soft SWOOSH. Walking into his invention lab, he went over to the left wall and took out his Samsung 890 cell phone. Punching in a special code of numbers, the wall opened to reveal his technological pride and joy. His UGD-3 wrist gauntlets, teleportation harness, multi-purpose tactical goggles, and his new baby, the XXO MicroSuit. He had been developing it for ages and finally it was complete. A modern masterpiece of microcircuitry and high density polymer mesh. He felt good everytime he looked at all of it.

Thank you Lord for the mind you've given me.

He put on the suit and powered up his gauntlets. It was only moments later that a call came through on the commlink.

It was Henry.

He stared stoically at his gauntlet. He'd just thought about the others who'd gone missing and this..??? He was happy to hear from him but he was also angry. Henry had disappered, and to Mykal, abandoned the order without even a letter, goodbye, or "Kiss my hiney" but now he wanted to come in like everything was kosher?

Mykal pushed a key on his gaunlet and spoke, his voice showing neither a hint of anger or happiness. Just indifference.

"What do you need?"

Servant 12 (50 Defender)- Millennium Paladins
Servant-12 (50 Blaster) - Millennium Paladins
Servant.12 (50 Tank) - Millennium Paladins



Henry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. His pride almost refused to let him speak, but this was what had to be done.

"Forgiveness, Brother. I've felt so powerless these past months... I couldn't bear to tell anyone at the time. Some odd malady came over me, and I could barely summon the energy to wake most days. At first I tried to return to the way of the sword as I had in my younger years-- before my power developed-- but it was useless in the end. I succumbed to a life-draining apathy and hid, unable to face the world, much less my Brothers."

"In my darkest hours, I thought that I might beg for a return to Avalon, there to hide for all time-- the whipping boy of false destiny. Then I came to realize why I was so lost-- my obsession with power had totally overcome me, and my inability to amass power enough to rival my past strength pushed me into depression."

Henry took a sip of water, noting Mykal's silence. He had to finish this before he lost his nerve.

"I've never been depressed before... it was something so new I couldn't even recognize it; I had to read about it on the "Internet." This whole time, I've been causing my own weakness simply because I believed deep down that I was weak. Perhaps I am, strictly from a power standpoint, but I have resolve now that I couldn't have known before. No longer will I worry about being powerful-- from now on, I just have to remember to be myself."

"So I ask only this, Brother-- for a brother to me you have been-- forgive me. My pride is gone, and in its place I hope nobility can grow."

Henry sat down, drained emotionally. It was all out on the table now, and no matter what happened now his life would change-- hopefully for the better.



Mykal stared at the floor.

He's sincere. I know he is. But I can't just act like everything is O.K. and go back to business as usual.

"Meet me at the top of my building in Galaxy City in fifteen minutes so we can talk face to face."

Servant 12 (50 Defender)- Millennium Paladins
Servant-12 (50 Blaster) - Millennium Paladins
Servant.12 (50 Tank) - Millennium Paladins



Bolstered by the fact that he hadn't been shut down outright, Henry stands and begins walking to the closet.

"I'll be there, Brother."

Looking through the closet, his first instinct is to don his formal armor, though it seems now to be more a symbol of his failure of character. This was the old me... lost in the need to be powerful. Had I never accepted this "gift," I would likely be much better off. Still... it has revealed to me the truth of my power and the truth of the four queens.

Henry... The Scion of Avalon... it seemed morbidly funny now, knowing that he had been used in a power struggle between the mystics of Avalon and the One God. Fate had a strange way of leading him to the truth, but now that he knew it all he would never truly have a place anywhere but with the Millenium Paladins.


The truth had come in small increments-- pieces in a puzzle the queens never thought he could assemble. First came the attack at the hotel after he had first met Mykal, a fireball erupting through the window, setting the room ablaze. His powers at the time were insufficient to quench the flames, so he had called upon a connection to the land-- something the Sisters had attempted to teach him but he had never used.
Water burst from the pipes in the room, and in a gust of wind the blaze was doused; Covenant, as he was called at the time, died in that moment. Henry passed out from the effort and when he woke he was a very changed man, his connection to the elements apparently permanent.

He spent the next few months accustoming him self to his new abilities and then, just as he had found peace in who he had become, Morgain had shown up to gift him with an enchanted suit of armor. He should have turned it down, but the promise of a return to his former power was too great... and he trusted her. With the armor on, he could once again enter the fray with the best of fighters, his aura and blade returned to him. The armor was enchanted in another way, as well, though he didn't understand it at the time; it urged him into battle-- turned off his rational thought and made him think only of defeating his enemies. That battle fury had led him to do something unthinkable, killing an innocent in a blind rage-- or at least he had thought so at the time.

The thought that he had been tricked into killing an innocent brought out the full force of the armor's magic; his rage built to a point where there was no right or wrong-- only victory or defeat-- and he called upon any power available to him to defeat his tormentor, an eidolon who called herself the "Mistress of Shadows." This was yet another turning point-- a piece to be pondered-- for at the time the most abundant power available was darkness. His Aunt had planned this, of course, though she expected it to be a bit more permanent than it was.

After a bit of wickedness and bit of brooding, Henry sloughed the darkness and in its place found something he thought he'd never see again: a blazing aura. At the time he attributed this return to his former brilliance to a plea he'd sent out to the Sisters of Avalon, especially considering a spectral visitation from his "mother", but he would learn it was not so. The entire situation had been an illusion crafted by his Aunt in order to tease out his inner darkness and gain in him an incomparable ally in her schemes, but she had not expected him to break free of the negative energy he had absorbed. In the end, she ended up with a sub-par imitation birthed from the power-charged darkness Henry had left behind-- the so-called Scion of Shadow-- and even he could not be controlled.

Henry, still believing in the inherent goodness of Avalon-- even after his Aunt trapped him for a time in the mists-- had renewed his efforts against the forces of wickedness because of this incident, rapidly gaining power reminiscent of his former glory. He still doffed the armor on occasion and used his elemental abilities to aid his allies, but it was in the armor that he felt truly alive. Until the day he met the Incineratrix.


She was young and powerful, boasting an array of fire abilities not unlike Starblaze, but her power felt different-- familiar. She asked for his help in defeating a band of Vahzilokand he gladly joined her, never tiring of releasing those poor reanimated souls and punishing their makers. When all was finished and they had made their eay outside she said the most peculiar thing, "She was right; you are too powerful. They'll never control you without her."

Confused, but on guard suddenly, Scion cocked his head to one side. "I beg your pardon, milady, but it seems you know more of me than I of you. Would you be so kind as to explain that statement? I'd rather this didn't turn violent as I prefer not to harm beautiful things." He formed a blade and leaned on it with both hands, prepared for either eventuality.

"Nimue told me about you. I'm her great-great-great-moregreatshere foster grandaughter. Or something like that. Lancelot du Lac is somewhere on my family tree, and she came looking for me because of my power. She said she was looking for an heir to the power of Avalon because the last heir wasn't working out. She said you were too headstrong and too 'male,' whatever that means. It's nothing personal, but she's in charge now, so she made me the new heir. You can keep the name, though-- it's kinda lame." She spoke in rapid fire chatter as she hovered in random directions, obviously a bit nervous.

Henry's jaw dropped. "Nimue is the Queen of Queens?! What happened to my Aunt?!" He couldn't believe that she would just step down so swiftly after he had escaped her last trap.

"She was helping the Circle of Thorns and they double crossed her, so when she came back home weakened this one time the other women sealed her up in a crystal cave or something. She said that without Morgain to control you, you were 'lost to them' so they needed a new heir. Please don't hold it against me... I'm really not a bad person, and I never knew my family so I couldn't say no!" She was growing increasingly agitated, little spurts of flame streaking out from her at random.

Henry dismissed his sword and sat down heavily on some nearby steps. "Calm yourself, milady. Sit. Talk with me; we have much to say to one another, it seems."

Over the course of several hours, he got the energetic young woman to reveal everything she knew: he had a "son" of sorts who went by the name Arthur, also known as the Scion of Shadow, who had betrayed Morgain because of a disagreement they had; he wanted her to give him solid flesh rather than the semi-solid state he existed in, so she froze him solid. Needless to say, he didn't appreaciate that, so when he accompanied her to a meeting with several dozen representative mages from the Circle of Thorns he told them that she was secretly planning to capture the Envoy of Shadows when next he appeared and was only using them to get close to him. A battle ensued in which all the mages were destroyed, Arthur vanished, and Morgain was greatly weakened. In her weakened state, the other Queens had no trouble confining her.

They thought she was rushing things in their quest to return Avalon to the physical world in defiance of the One God, but had been powerless to stop her from operating however she pleased until that day. She had even revealed to Henry, who she was supposed to be manipulating, that she was planning something big. So, without her to bend him to her will, they needed a new heir-- one who was not as concerned with old Covenants.

In addition to this information, she revealed to him that the armor he wore was completely non-magical now, the enchantment having been destroyed when he summoned his own power to throw off the darkness.
Here, the pieces fell into place. He had been manipulated since the day he first left Avalon; he was led to this very moment, most likely. He could only guess that this was the Sisters' attempt at a farewell.

His power was his own, every step of the way; in Avalon he had merely attuned to the magic of the place and learned to bend it to his will; when he needed the ability to douse the fire, he had to reattune himself to the wind and water and couldn't change his power back because there was no magical energy to attune to; when he was in the sewers and had needed power, he naturally attuned to the most abundant source: darkness. The most interesting bit in all of this, though, was his last attunement... he was attuned to nothing more than his own desire. His power was truly his, and no one in Avalon could ever take that away from him.

When they parted, he was more than a little disheartened. "I thank you for your candidness, milady. It was certainly unexpected, but I can live with these developments. I wish you luck in all your endeavors, and may you not be used and tossed aside as I seem to have been." He turned and leaped away, a gout of flame rocketing him forward, never once looking back at the woman who had taken his place in the universe.

The next few weeks were a blur. He didn't eat or sleep at all. He didn't need those things; his power sustained him. Weeks of nothing but fighting and fighting and more fighting passed as though they were minutes, and then the daze wore off. He was alone on a street in Founder's Falls, surrounded by a pile of charred Rikti corpses. They were most certainly dead, and he was facing a portal through which still more were coming. He didn't know how long he'd been there, but the pile around him was getting deep, the Rikti choosing to trample their fallen colleagues to get at him. He was wearing a costume much like the one he wore when he used his weather controlling abilities, though red and orange rather than blue and white-- and it was shredded-- revealing that he was bleeding from at least a dozen large wounds. He called on his healing abilities as he took this information in, only to find that he was far too exhausted. The Rikti closed in and everything went dark.


When he woke in the hospital several days had passed. The doctors told him that he should stay in bed for at least a weak, as his body had sustained massive trauma. "It's a miracle you even woke up," one told him.

He did as he was told. He stayed on at the hospital for observation for a few more days, doing nothing but replaying the battle he had woken to. It was no accident that he had been fighting the Rikti for so long when he could have simply destroyed the portal. He had either been trying to die, or trying to bring out a power he no longer had. Perhaps both.

Coming to this realization, he felt somewhat numb; he was never going to be as powerful as once he had been... Avalon was lost to him, and he had almost died trying to prove he was still powerful enough. He wasn't powerful enough. When he was the Covenant, invading armies fell in his wake. Now... a handful of invaders nearly killed him.

When he left the hospital, he left by way of taxi, unable to summon the energy to run, leap or fly. His body felt leaden; his movements sluggish. When he arrived at his apartment building, the doorman had to check his ID; this was the first time he'd ever come in through the door. He took the elevator to the 7th foor and trudged down the hallway to his nearly empty studio apartment. It looked like he felt. Three colorless, lifeless months passed before he stepped outside again.


I think I'll go with the spandex... I need to stretch my legs, he thinks, gathering a belt and boots to match. I still can't believe I actually bummed around here this long. Oh well, at least I learned about television and the internet.

Fully dressed less than a minute after speaking to Mykal, Henry stretches, stifling a yawn. He knows it takes me less than 5 minutes to cross the entire city, so I'll guess he needs time to prepare.

Well... he thinks, opening a window, this looks like a nice day for a flight around the park. I don't do that enough anymore. I'll only be 5 minutes early after that.

Henry Pendragon, the Scion of Avalon in name alone, smiles. It's going to be a good day.



The sounds of a pitched battle roll throughout Peregrine Island, almost as if World War III has come to town, and a bombardment of missiles come soaring close to a nearby building. A great explosion occurs, and left standing in the smoking hole is the Blade of CuChulainn... also known as Caladbolg. The dust clears almost as fast as the wounds heal on his body, what wounds he did take, and he cracks his neck as he loosens up his shoulders "Well ye bucket o' bolts, that ain't too shabby, but yer gonna hafta do better'n that if yer thinkin' o' rumblin' wit me..."

The Hercules Titan robot buzzes out in an electronic voice, "Enemy identified as Caladbolg. Extremely Dangerous. Proceed with Extreme Prejudice." Then the two remaining robots combine to form the dreaded Zeus Titan, and add "Terminate Caladbolg." The large hero rolls his eyes, and rumbles "Bollocks, gotta learn ta keep me mouth shut..." and ducks under the next volley of missiles as he rockets towards his enemy with lightning speed. Stepping up under the robots mechanical chassis, Caladbolg roars his defiance as he smashes into the underside of a leg with an incredible uppercut. The black energy that envelopes his hands clings to the robot, and causes it's targeting systems to malfunction slightly. Allowing him a moment to duck under one of the large sweeping arms, and deliver a series of punishing blows to the power component, and bringing the newly combined Zeus to its knees.

As the dark energy flows off of him, as well as the Zeus, Caladbolg flexes his hands in curiosity. *So Strange* Cal thinks to himself, *I never bloody had this before, and now I can't seem ta get rid o' it. Dunno what it means, maybe Servant can help out...* At the thought of his friend, Cal gives a chuckle, *...a bit naive, that Lad is, but good at heart I think. Taken ta the leavin' o' some folks a bit to much ta heart. People are a flakey bunch. Never knownin' what they want or when they want it. I should give'em a call*.

Looking down at the odd communication device Servant gave him, Cal grumbles "Freaky gadgets, and too many remote controls." He punches the keys wrong a few times, and growls his frustration. Plunging a darkened hand into the Zeus parts, Cal releases some of his anger, and finally gets his communicator to work "Hey, Yo, Boss. Got me a Zeus here, ye be needing' some parts fer yer mad schemes?!" The big man grins, knowing that Servant has a hard time dealing with his blunt humor, but thinks the man generally enjoys the Irish Rogue's view on life. "I ain't run inta any Carnies yet, but if'n I find one I'll bring back a Ring Mistress 'cause I'm knowin' ye like the thongs..." A thick bit of deep laughter follows into the communicator after his comments... little does Cal realize that anyone on the MP Net would hear him.

The Paladins, the group that Servant recruited, no told him he was all ready a part of, Caladbolg still isn't sure he fits into yet. He doesn't share most of their beliefs in One God, or the Chivalry of the Knights, but Servant tells him he is one of them. Cal guesses that if something picked him for it they had good reason. If Servant is the representation of Nobility, Cal would assume, that he would represent Courage in all forms. Running headlong into a group of Nemesis is the same to him as speaking his mind even if others don't agree. All in all he respects all of his new found friends, but sometimes he wished they would be a little less High and Mighty, and a little more Street Wise...



Mykal stared into space, oblivious to all the lab equipment and inventions in the making. He knew what he had to do but he wasn't going to be happy doing it.

The recent falling away of the Paladins bothered him more than he cared to admit. It came with the territory of being a perfectionist and having that happen was a failure in his eyes. But he knew that he couldn't control everything and that his perfectionist attitude was nothing but pride. He'd struggled with it all his life and had become better at it since being with the Paladins.

Falling on one knee, he bowed his head, hands folded into one another, sighing heavily.

Lord....I can't carry this team or whatever we are now. You must carry us. I came into this with the wrong attitude, doubting those you'd chosen, trying to take Your place. I'm so sorry. Father, please forgive me. Cleanse me from unrighteousness and teach me how to serve you through serving my new brothers.

The room was deeply silent. Mykal knew The Almighty had heard him as he felt a weight lifted from his spirit. The key to success with the Paladins was simple....give up. Give up worrying about every detail. Give up relying on himself to hold it all together instead of God. Give up trying to be Superman and be what God had called him to be. A servant.

Getting to his feet, a new resolve filling his heart, he fastened tight the rest of his equipment. Punching in a key sequence on his wrist gauntlet, a soft woman's voice emanated from a speaker on his tech belt.

"Diagnostic program initiated."

The microcircuitry in his suit came to life as electronic digital information coursed through wire avenues, seeking out any detail that was out of place with better than pinpoint precision, making him glow with a gold radiance. Mere seconds passed before the soft voice announced, "Diagnostic complete. All system parameters are operating at optimal levels. Welcome Servant 12."

"Thank you Sheila. Looks like we have some work to do today."

"I am ready to assist you in any way I can."


Mykal answered the call on his commlink.

"Twelve here."

"Hey, yo boss. Got me a Zeus here. Ye be needin' some parts fer yer mad schemes?!"

A soft smile came over his face.

"Anything that will help in the good fight."

"I ain't run inta any carnies yet, but if'n I find one I'll bring back a ring mistress 'cause I'm knowin' ye like the thongs..."

Mykal shook his head and sighed.

O.K. Lord. You picked him, not me.

"You have some dope timing there," he said, ignoring Cal's last comment. "Meet me at the top of Tannan Industries here in Galaxy City. I want to talk with you and Henry who's on his way."

Mykal felt it. The Millennium Paladins were about to come out of their growing pains.

Servant 12 (50 Defender)- Millennium Paladins
Servant-12 (50 Blaster) - Millennium Paladins
Servant.12 (50 Tank) - Millennium Paladins